


Father's Day

by Miggy



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 23:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miggy/pseuds/Miggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says in the title, at the Hudmel house in their first year after the wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father's Day

Burt Hummel walked into his kitchen, yawning and scratching idly at the back of his neck. Summer was a tease, with warm nights that tempted him to sit on the back deck but morning birdsong as loud as any alarm clock. Sunday was seldom a day of rest. When he realized what he was hearing, he had the strange feeling that he was still asleep. When his nose caught up on the scents pouring off the stove, he knew he _had_ to be dreaming.

"Good morning, Dad," Kurt practically trilled. His hand expertly flipped the pan, but he still tensed until the flapjack landed securely inside its borders. 

"What's this?" Burt asked with bemusement. The Boss had overtaken the soundtrack of birdsong.

Kurt considered the question, and then pointed to each element of the scene in turn. "Pancakes, eggs, bacon, coffee, playlist entitled 'Blue Collar Rock Hits Of the '80s and '90s.'" He smiled proudly. "I made them all myself."

That was what had Burt convinced he was dreaming: he smelled _bacon._ It had been a forbidden smell in their house ever since, well, that time they didn't talk about. "When I wake up," he finally said, "I'm going to be real disappointed."

"Sit down," Kurt insisted. Burt's amusement grew when he saw flowers for a centerpiece. He suspected those were more for Kurt than him; he had a few choice rants about 'unadorned tables.' "And you're not dreaming, don't be ridiculous," he said as he actually tried to tuck a cloth napkin into the collar of Burt's t-shirt. Burt batted his son's hands away.

After a quick check on the food that left him gasping that he'd caught it just in time, Kurt quickly piled everything onto a plate and slid it in front of Burt. "Happy Father's Day," he said with a beaming smile. 

Burt looked between him and the food like he was still trying to figure out what the joke was. The dish wasn't unusual; it was the same hearty meal he'd happily enjoyed for years prior. Kurt had once asked him what he'd want for a special breakfast, expecting something with a complicated name, and Burt had been forced to convince him that there'd be nothing better. But he just couldn't believe, in that year, that Kurt had willingly served him bacon fried in its own grease.

Kurt saw his hesitation. "It's turkey bacon," he admitted.

"Still."

Biting at his lip, Kurt sat and continued his explanation. "I've actually been tracking recipes for the past two weeks. I've cut down the calories, the oil, the fat... all in tiny little increments that you wouldn't notice." He managed to smile. "Or complain about."

Burt chuckled.

"So you could have your big meal," he finished with a gesture toward the plate. "Like always, feeling that it was something special and just what you wanted."

"Well, thanks," Burt said, surprised at how touched he felt that Kurt had made such an effort. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble."

"Of course I did," Kurt instantly said. He swallowed hard. "I was just... I was so glad I got to do it again this year."

The emotion behind the words caught Burt like a punch to his gut, and he had to take a deep breath to clear his throat. His hand stole out and caught Kurt's, squeezed it firmly, and was startled when Kurt squeezed back with so much force. The surprise made him reassess the boy in front of him. Burt wondered when his shoulders had filled out and the baby fat had started to disappear from his cheeks. In an instant he realized how close a future was when he wouldn't call Kurt down to dinner; he'd call him long-distance. He squeezed again, harder than before, and they sat there like that.

Kurt finally shook himself out of the moment. "Dad, eat your bacon. I don't want to have all those saved calories go to waste, not today."

Burt released his hand, patted it once, and then happily began to indulge in his breakfast. Coffee was soon placed next to him; he'd seen that Kurt had reached for two pink packets, not white sugar, but he didn't say a word.

"Carole asked me what I thought you might want to do," Kurt began as Burt chewed. "I know you've liked other movies like it, so she's going to take you to see the new X-Men. Or you could go to Thor," he allowed, "since you never got around to seeing that."

"What's that new one that just came out?" Burt wondered as he popped the end of a piece of bacon into his mouth and reached for another. "The, ah, Green one?"

"Oh, no, that's gotten awful reviews," Kurt instantly said, but then took a deep breath and allowed, "but if you want to go to it, then of course you get to pick."

Burt shot him a lopsided smile. Once he'd chased down the mouthful with coffee, he said, "Nah, I trust your judgment." That trust practically made Kurt preen where he sat; they both knew they weren't familiar with the other's tastes in entertainment. Even though it was awkward, Burt let him watch as he ate his way through most of the meal. It felt like Kurt was recording that all those carefully saved calories were being properly enjoyed. 

With that attention, it took them both a while to realize that someone else was waiting in the door. Burt turned and saw Finn there with an awkward smile on his face. "Hey, morning. Sleep well?"

Finn nodded, still looking unsure of himself, and then sniffed the air. "Is that bacon?" he asked in disbelief. 

"Oh, I could make you some," Kurt said and returned to the stove. "There's some left in the package and Dad's had his fill," he added pointedly.

Burt held up his hands in surrender. It was more than he'd expected.

"Uh, sure, thanks," Finn said. He sat down at the table and looked nervous. Burt wondered why. "You know," he finally said when Kurt had cracked two eggs into the pan and was—bizarrely—singing along to Bon Jovi. "It's weird. Kurt actually knew his mom, and he seemed okay with it. He just showed up with this kind of ridiculous bouquet of flowers, said 'Happy Mother's Day,' and then they went to...." He trailed off, clearly unable to remember the specifics of the day.

"We went to the mall to find her a proper summer scent for her perfume collection," Kurt supplied. 

"Right," Finn agreed blankly. Burt could tell where this was going, and he appreciated it, but he also knew that neither he nor Finn were as demonstrative as the other two. He got the gist of what Finn meant and how far he felt he could go in this short of time. "And I mean... Mother's Day was _it_ for me. Always. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here." He had easy patterns he could fall into for Carole; with Burt, it was clearly uncharted territory.

Burt leaned forward, caught his forearm, and squeezed it. "I get what you're trying to say, Finn. Thanks."

Finn's brow furrowed as he thought. As Kurt slid a plate in front of him, still singing and swinging his hips in time with Bon Jovi, Finn abruptly shoved a piece of notebook paper at Burt. "Um, here. I... I guess, Happy Father's Day."

Kurt stopped at that; he apparently hadn't expected to hear the words. He looked startled but not unhappy.

For his part, Burt tried to fight back his smile until he saw what was on the paper. For all he knew it was some confession that he'd gotten a girl pregnant for real this time and had been buttering him up with the Father's Day talk; scribbled notes ripped out of a spiral notebook could run the gamut. "I. O. U. one pair of gloves," he read, and then made a soft noise of confusion.

Realizing that both Burt and Kurt were looking at him with almost identically befuddled looks, Finn began to explain, "Well... I remembered you said you lost your red gloves in the move, and you didn't really get a chance to go to Buckeyes games this year because, um, yeah. I tried to go find some, but no one's selling gloves in June, so... I guess I don't have a present until they bring in the cold weather gear. Sorry."

Laughing a little, Burt tried to find words and couldn't. He finally settled on, "Thanks. I'll look forward to it."

"Show me up, why don't you," Kurt said with no real rancor as he shoved another few pancakes on Finn's plate. "Eat these, I needed to use up the rest of the batter."

"The presents were both _great_ ," he said firmly. "Hey. So if Carole's up for seeing either, would you guys rather see X-Men or Thor?"

Finn's eyes lit up, unsurprisingly. Kurt, though Burt hadn't expected it, actually seemed intrigued with one of the options on its own merits rather than as an excuse to spend time with him. "I've heard very good things about the two leads in X-Men," he said in that tone that was just neutral enough to give Burt some indication of what _kind_ of things he'd been hearing. Ah, well. There was that blonde woman in the ridiculous underwear, too. Something for everyone.

"Okay, then," Burt said. "Me and your mom, we'll go out and do the whole date thing with the other one. Dinner and a movie. And some night this week, you guys'll come pick me up from work and we'll catch X-Men. Sound like a plan?"

They confirmed that it did sound like a plan, and Finn actually offered to help wash dishes. He probably felt overwhelmed by a better breakfast than he'd ever expected. Burt didn't bother trying; he'd done so once, the first year Kurt had made him a special meal, and had gotten his hands slapped away from the sink for his efforts. "Hey, boys?" he said as he moved to leave. The latest song came on the playlist; he wouldn't have expected Kurt to own any of them. "Thanks."

The smile was mutual.


End file.
